


and I'll paint the sky upon your skin

by south_like_sherman



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Almost smut, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Making Out, Stars, bad metaphors, bc i'm wayyyyyy to young for that, but not, forgive me jesus please, i have sinned, kind of?, reeeeeaaaally bad metaphors, this whole thing is just a bad metaphor tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9215837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/south_like_sherman/pseuds/south_like_sherman
Summary: "Alex pulled away slightly so he could look at John, properly look at him like he had never seen John before, like he could never get enough, and a hot shiver ran down his spine under Alex's gaze, filling his bare chest with a warm kind of glow, and he thought it might be the sunshine trickling back, seeping into his heart and pumping round his body in deep, steady thumps (and he thought if he listened close enough, he could hear Alex's heart beating in tandem with his own-boom, boom, boom).'There are stars caught in your hair, John,' Alex breathed, his gaze cloudy and dazed like the mere sight of John had struck him dumb, like he didn't quite know what to say. His lips were parted slightly, gleaming in the silvery moonlight that illuminated his face (but John thought sometimes that the moon wasn't just illuminating his face, but that hewasthe moon- but of course, that would mean he was in the sky, somewhere so far out of John's reach he'd never find him, and John didn't think he could bear that), and God, how did John ever get so lucky?"orJohn and Alex make out and Alex thinks John is covered in literal stars but John's my smol angsty child so





	

John was drowning (he'd swear to God, if he knew God would listen to him), drowning in Alex- but he didn't mind, because he was addicted to this, he'd learned to breathe underwater, learned to swim with his head below the waves, learned that if he didn't he'd die without this, learned the water was his only haven, his only home, _Alex_ was his only home.

He groaned under his breath as Alex's lips pressed down against his collarbone and it was _fire_ , fire that was burning him now, but he craved it, he craved this rush, this exhilarating sensation and he was floating so far above anything else (or maybe he wasn't maybe he was below the sea, maybe he was walking on the ocean floor, the water thick and soft around him), and-

" _Fuck_ , Alex," John breathed in rush of air as his lips parted and he arched his back against the bed, hands fisting in the sheets as Alex mouthed at his hips, and there was something buzzing in his ears and _Alex_ , God, _Alex_. His eyes slid shut as he tipped his head back, something washing over him and he wasn't quite sure what but it cleansed him, renewed him and set every nerve aflame, but he had learned to love the fire.

John couldn't see him, but he could feel his lips curve into a smile, feel the hot rush of exhaled air escaping in a breathless laugh against his sensitive (so achingly sensitive) skin- the kind of laugh which is almost delirious, which hangs in the air for a few seconds before floating away, as though it's too light, too full of air to stay anchored in one spot.

"Love you," John mumbled, as though he was afraid Alex didn't know- but he was, because maybe Alex didn't, maybe Alex had forgotten (sometime he forgot things, sometimes John had to remind him- sometimes that wasn't enough). "Love you so much, _God_ , Alex-"

He let out a bitten off cry from breathless lips, canting his hips up to Alex, as though he were falling, as though he could only hope Alex would catch him (Alex always caught him).

Alex paused his ministrations, resting his nose against the ridge of John's stomach and pressing one more lingering kiss on the skin there, as though he never wanted to stop ( _then don't_ , John wanted to say, _please, God, don't_ ).

"Alex?" John's brow crumpled slightly, and he extended a hand, tangling it in Alex's hair (thick and soft, like the water he swore he could feel pressing around him- or maybe that was Alex), lifting his head slightly off the sheets. The haze clouding his eyes cleared as his vision sharpened, focusing on Alex (always Alex).

When Alex lifted his gaze to meet John's, the movement was heady and clumsy, as though he was was full of helium and John was the only thing anchoring him down. His eyes were dark and shiny, pupils wide and lust blown, the same smouldering brown John had grown to love. Before he met Alex, he would say his favourite colour was green, because how was he supposed to know better? Green was nature, green was life, and John thought he loved those things more than anything else. But ask him now, and he would reply with brown, because brown was Alex, brown was the hue that coloured the air around him, dark and crackling with energy as though he were about to explode at any given second, and John knew he was wrong now when he had said green, because he loved Alex more than anything, more than nature, more than life, because Alex was _everything_ , and _God_ , what was he supposed to do?

Alex's lips twitched upwards in what could be a smile, and something shot through John, something like sunshine, right through his veins, and God, he never wanted Alex to stop smiling like that- that soft, half open kind of smile which kind of melted his face and smoothed out all the harsh lines, all the angles and edges until he was just _Alex_.

John trailed his hand through Alex's hair, brushing the edge of his hairline and ghosting across his cheek, as though if he pressed too hard Alex might just shatter (John didn't think he could bear that), pulling him towards him as though he couldn't bear the space between him (and he couldn't, he really couldn't- John thought he might die if Alex didn't touch him right here, right now).

Alex inched up John's body, dropping searing kisses on whatever skin he could reach, and John thought he might explode, might just combust right there and there were flames dancing through him, and the sunshine had turned to liquid in his veins, and the water was so fucking warm now, so thick and velvety sliding over John's skin (or maybe that was Alex's lips). He groaned, pressing himself into Alex because the air between them was so fucking unbearable, so oppressing and so hot and John just couldn't bear it any longer.

When Alex met his lips, it wasn't the kiss he had been expecting at all. He had been expecting something hot, something to match the fire racing through him, something to match the burning in his veins and the swirling waters around him- but instead, it was like he was taking his first breath of air in years (and at that moment, he wasn't sure he missed drowning all that much). He gasped, parting his lips, letting Alex take, take anything, everything (but that didn't make sense, didn't make sense at all because Alex _was_ everything). But he didn't. He gave instead, because all Alex ever did was give, give his life, his heart, his soul, to John because sometimes he thought Alex acted like John was all he had, was all he ever wanted.

" _God_ , John," Alex gasped into his lips, pressing down harder into him as though they still weren't close enough, as though every inch between them was painful (and it was).

Alex pulled away slightly so he could look at John, properly look at him like he had never seen John before, like he could never get enough, and a hot shiver ran down his spine under Alex's gaze, filling his bare chest with a warm kind of glow, and he thought it might be the sunshine trickling back again, seeping into his heart and pumping round his body in deep, steady thumps (and he thought if he listened close enough, he could hear Alex's heart beating in tandem with his own- _boom, boom, boom_ ).

"There are stars caught in your hair, John," Alex breathed, his gaze cloudy and dazed like the mere sight of John had struck him dumb, like he didn't quite know what to say. His lips were parted slightly, gleaming in the silvery moonlight that illuminated his face (but John thought sometimes that the moon wasn't just illuminating his face, but that he _was_ the moon- but of course, that would mean he was trapped in the sky, caught in a web of stars somewhere so far out of John's reach he'd never find him, and John didn't think he could bear that), and _God_ , how did John ever get so lucky?"

"What?" A low, airless laugh bubbled from John's lips, confused at the awe-filled tone Alex addressed him with.

"There are stars in your hair John, in your freckles, in your eyes, on your lips, God, there are so many stars."

Alex dropped a kiss on John's neck as if to punctuate his point, brushing his lips over every part of John he could reach- but that wasn't right, what he'd said wasn't _right_.

"Wait, Alex, I-" John sucked in a breath, one hand resting on Alex's shoulder like he was about to push him away (but he could never push Alex away).

"John?" Alex glanced back up at him, brow furrowed, lips hovering inches above John's bare skin.

"Get the stars out, please, God, get them out, out of my hair, get them out. . ." John's voice was soft and wrecked, strained as though he wasn't quite sure what he was saying. He slid his eyes shut, blocking out the moonlight drifting through the window. But he reached his hand out as though he might touch it. Grab onto it.

"Why?" When Alex spoke, he sounded lost, confused, like he couldn't imagine any other place for the stars to be but on John's body.

"Because- I'm not the sky." John felt delirious, like he'd drunk too much (or maybe just too much Alex- no, no, there could never be enough Alex), like he was flying so high he might fall. He didn't notice the way Alex's face crumpled when he spoke, he didn't notice the way his own tears slid over his cheeks like quicksilver from underneath inky lashes- and he didn't notice the way the stars fell with them.

But Alex did, because Alex always did. So he did what he'd always done before- picked up the stars, and put them back in the sky- back on John.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a poem i wrote at three am  
> thank you so much to all who read this, if y'all wanna drop a comment or kudos it would mean the world to me!  
> shout out to [kitten-with-too-many-ships](https://kitten-with-too-many-ships.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for proofreading this you are the literal best <3  
> y'all can find me on tumblr [here](http://the-girl-who-cried-ship.tumblr.com/)  
> thanks again!
> 
> ~ Kinzie


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